


Of Blood Bags & Bendy Straws

by 222Ravens



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bromance, Gen, i guess, now canon divergent, vaguely post Citizen Fang
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-31
Updated: 2013-04-04
Packaged: 2017-12-07 02:57:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/743380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/222Ravens/pseuds/222Ravens
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Benny Lafitte is having what you might call an off day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Decided to post this before the next episode horribly kills off Benny or otherwise makes this redundant. 
> 
> Apologies in advance if I thoroughly butchered attempting to write a Southern-ish accent/thought patterns. If it’s any defense, I’m Canadian.

 

_Somewhere near the Catskill Mountains_

 

Benny Lafitte is having what you might call an off day.

 

In truth, off month or two might be a _wee_ bit more on the accurate end of things, but he’s doing specially bad today.

 

The vampire flattens himself against a tree trunk, listening to the sound of cars moving past. Ain’t much to fret about. A big van with a couple of kids in the back and a funny little car with a pair of teenagers out on a jaunt. 

 

All heading far away, he hopes, and prays that he can hold on.

 

He’s been without blood for _five damn days_ , and is on the verge of ripping his fingernails out through his spine. It ain’t easy, not going it alone like this. He gets why Dean dropped him, situation with his brother the way it was. He knew what family meant to the guy, he really did. He got why they had to part ways and all. 

 

Hell, trying to look out for family was about what got him into this particular fine situation. So, he couldn’t exactly judge. He still wishes more than anything that Elizabeth hadn’t see that. Still weren’t sure if he’d made the right choice there, ‘cept that man was rabid, and he wasn’t too keen on getting back to Purgatory just yet.

 

Rationalizing it sure didn’t make it a whole lot easier to stay clean. Even when he had a regular supply of blood bags, it was hard enough, but _now_ ….

 

He was going to hurt somebody real soon if he didn’t figure out a solution to this.

 

Of course, he’d thought he had. Break into a blood bank, simple enough, really, couldn’t be much more than a couple of locks to jimmy open, not at night. Previous place had been easy. 

 

He failed to take into account good ole modern technology, complete with big flashin’ alarm systems that brought in a security guard before he got the hospital freezer open.

 

Benny had tried to knock the poor sucker unconscious, but the fella had decided that fighting back was a better plan, and in the scuffle had gotten a bit of a nick on his arm. One that happened to be deep enough to draw a bit of blood.

 

He still didn’t know how he got out of there with the guard’s hide intact, and that was two days ago, with stronger hankerings ever since.

 

The next town over, now, was somewhere a bit farther from the crowds, but they had a bloodbank, so that was _somethin’_ , at least. A bit of a ways from town, too, he’d found an old cabin to lay low in.

 

But he couldn’t get to the bloodbank until late that night, not without risking running into some poor soul. He knew that this time, if he saw anybody, he’d been killing them, not a lot of choice in the matter.

 

‘Cept he liked having choices, so he was picking the one that ended with the fewest casualties.

 

He’d just been out to check on the truck, load up his coolers and the like, then had taking a hike to cool his nerves. The deer he’d stumbled across had helped some with the cravings, but not enough, no matter what those truly awful books he’d picked up had suggested. (Sparkly vampires, _honestly._ Sometimes he missed the old days.) 

 

It was back to the cabin for the moment, though. It wasn’t much, but it was a little ways off the main road, and had a bit of running water, so that was better than nothin’.

 

When he reaches the cabin, he sniffs, and swears. Someone else had been here, recent like, and the door to the place is a bit ajar.

 

They’re gone now, whoever they were but he decides that it ain’t worth them coming back, so he fixes to clear out the second he nabs the last of his things out of the cabin.

 

He has a flashlight in his pocket, so he flicks it on before going in, and pulls the knife out of his belt, on the off chance he was mistaken.

 

The room is largely empty, except the pile of blankets in the corner, his duffel bag, and…

 

“The _hell?_ ”

 

The reaction is more’n justified, because the other thing in the room is a shiny new freezer cooler, with two things on top, that, on closer inspection, turn out to be a note written in blue ink, and a box of honest to all hell _bendy straws_.

 

He picks up the note and starts reading.

 

_Hey there, Mr. or Mrs. or Ms. Vampire, (Dr. Vampire? Is that a thing?)_

 

_That’s right, you’ve been Garth’d, sucker._

_Sucker. LOL, right? Sorry, bad pun._

_Anyway._

_Picked up on your little issue with the bloodbank in the last town, figured you were probably in need of a little bit of a boost._

_I reckon since you’re on the lookout for baggy blood and didn’t eat the guard, you’re probably trying to go off the live stuff._

_Props, man, real good of you._

_Now, I’ve got a lot on my plate right now, so any monsters who are trying to be less on the monster-y side of things is always good in my books._

_Enjoy this on me, amigo, and let me know if ya run into any more trouble._

_:D_

_Garth Fitzgerald IV_

_731-555-0123_

 

And then reads the whole thing again, because for one… Nah, he didn’t even know where to start on that list.

 

Except he opens up the cooler, and its chock full of blood bags. It taunts him, they look so damn good sitting in there, so good it takes all his effort to shut the cooler again and dial the number. Because he ain’t stupid, and much as he wants that blood… He can smell a potential trap when he sees ones, cute little straws or not.

 

He’s glad he’s still got his handphone thingy, or whatever they were called. A voice answer on the sixth ring.

 

“Garth here. Sorry, had to pull over. No cellphones while driving. Safety first.”

 

“How do I know that cooler ain’t full of dead man’s blood, brother?”

 

There’s a chuckle on the other end of the line. “Would _I_ do that?”

 

Benny rolls his eyes. “You tell me. Me and hunters ain’t exactly on the cuddliest of terms, and you seem like a hunter to me. I wrong?”

 

“Okay, guessing you’re that vampire I’ve been tracking, from your opener there. First off… Stop being an _idjit_. I’m trying to help you out, here. You aren’t the first vampire that’s tried to go straight. Some have done pretty well at it, but it helps when they got somebody on their side. Sponsor, so to speak. Fewer vampires going crazy and killing folk, fewer messes we hunters gotta clean up, and like I mentioned, we’ve got bigger problems on our hands right now. Comprende?”

 

Benny opens up the package of straws carefully, pulling out a yellow one. “Say that’s true. Fair ‘nough. Alright, I’ll bite, metaphorically speaking. But if it turns out your double-crossing me, here… Last hunter that tried that ended up a little less than healthy. Didn’t want to do it, but he was threatening innocent folk. My great-granddaughter, for one. I didn’t exactly have much of a choice in that matter. Been running in the weeks since, so you can imagine I’m a little on the jumpy side.”

 

There’s a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line, then a laugh. “Hang on… Aww, crap. Did you kill Crazy Martin? Because if you did, I mean, _balls_ , that was bad, but from the sounds of the witness report… That guy should have never gotten out of the crazy bin. So, nah, not going to blame you, there.”

 

This is a strange conversation, even by Benny’s relatively lax standards for that. “You don’t seem much surprised.”

 

“Well… It was obvious from what I heard of what happened that it was self defense, so to find out a relatively good sort of vampire did it, nah… Not exactly surprised. Bummer, though. Your granddaughter, though? Huh. Alright. Swear by… Mr. Fizzles, it’s normal, good ole fashioned blood. Nothing hinky…”

 

“That so?” 

 

“Well, you gonna have a drink or not?”

 

Benny lets out a long breath. He won’t ask what a ‘Fizzles’ is. Modern slang was bad enough, without trying to go any deeper into it. Tossing aside the straw, he forcibly rips the lid off the cooler. “Reckon I will. I’ll be more in a talking sort of mood in a minute.”

 

“Sure thing. I can wait. Got a pretty good parking spot here. ”

 

Four empty blood bags later, Benny is feeling a bit more… Well, not _human_ , but less ravening, certainly. He wipes his mouth on his sleeve, and picks up the phone again.

 

“Well, I ain’t dead or passed out, so there’s something.”

 

“Course not. Told you.”

 

“Now, when you say ‘bigger problems’, what kind of thing you talking about?”

 

“Oh, you know, consolidating the mess that is the American hunting community, collating data, dealing with demons and prophets and keeping the idjit Winchesters out of trouble…”

 

Benny grins toothily. “Since I doubt there’s a lot of other Winchesters out there… I’m assuming you know Dean, then? And his brother too, I suppose, though he and I ain’t on the best of terms right now, so I’d appreciate you not mentioning me to him.”

 

“Wait… How do you know Dean? And I just realized something… I don’t know your name. That strikes me as rude. Sorry ‘bout that. Anyway… Nice to meet you…”

 

“Benny. And how I know Dean is a mighty long story.”

 

“Did you say Benny?”

 

“Yeah. How come?”

 

“Dude, is Sam pissed at you over Crazy Martin or something? That sucks, because not too long ago, Dean was possessed by the ghost coin, and he started talking about some guy called Benny that Sam didn’t seem to like, and how the dude was “like a brother to him”… Man, it was a messed up such… I’m guessing you’re that Benny?”

 

“I might be. He really say that?”

 

“Yep. Though I’m thinking Sam doesn’t like you, so he dumped your ass as a friend? What an _idjit_.”

 

“S’alright. I can deal.”

 

“No, I am calling Dean, and telling him what exactly how big an idjit he is. Guy doesn’t have a lot of friends left in the world, he needs to look after the one’s he got besides me and Kevin and that angel guy he’s got all that weird tension with.”

 

“Angel guy? There another angel?”

 

“Well, there are lots of angels, but I just know that one in the trench coat. Think he’s hanging around Dean still, last I checked. Not too sure.”

 

“How’d Cas get out of Purgatory?”

 

“Wait, Purgatory? What’s with the Purgatory thing? Because I don’t think Dean really spent a year in a gay bar in Miami… With an angel and a vampire? I’m guessing I missed a memo somewhere along here.”

 

“If Dean ain’t told you ‘bout Purgatory, I ain’t going to talk about it neither. But you’re saying Castiel’s alive?”

 

“He stopped by to visit Kevin a couple of weeks back with Dean.”

 

“What’s a Kevin?”

 

“Ah. Not sure if I can tell you that one.”

 

“Fair enough. I hardly know you and all. “

 

“How do you feel about demons?”

 

“They smell, and the whole world would be a good bit better without ‘em.”

 

“Huh. Cool. Alright. Well, I’m guessing you don’t have anywhere to be, since you don’t have to go raiding that blood bank tonight. You good for gas?”

 

“For the moment.”

 

“Want to take a little road trip?”

 

“Where to?”

 

“Warsaw, Missouri?”

 

“Sure.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting ahead of tonight's episode, which will probably break our hearts and horribly kill off Benny. I'll keep writing anyway, but it'll turn AU, I guess.

Benny thinks about runnin’.

 

He ought to, if he were being smart about it. Messin’ around with hunters again? Easiest way to get into a whole mess of trouble, there was no mistaking it. Last time had made that _real_ clear. God, he felt awful about that. Nothing to be done about it, ‘cept to keep on fightin’, make that last promise to Elizabeth stick.

 

“Are you going to hurt me?” She’d somehow stuttered after him, right after he’d pulled himself away from that hunter’s corpse, tried making an apology from a blood-stained mouth, an explanation, and ended up just backing away careful like.

 

“I don’t want to hurt nobody.” He’d said, then “I’m sorry,” and meant it. Not about killin’ him, not even about feeding. But sorry nonetheless.

 

He looks down at the cooler. It'd last a couple of days, maybe a week or two if he really stretched things out. And then it would be back to more of the same. Runnin’, and stealin’, and sooner or later he was gonna slip up and somebody would end up dead. He didn’t want that. Sure, he might be a monster. That part wasn’t ever gonna change. But he could do better, and if he didn’t? Well, he was right back to where he started before he ended up messing around with hunters, in Purgatory. He’d gotten out wanting revenge, mostly. That was done. Didn’t leave a lot else, unless Benny figured out something to keep himself in line. He didn’t get a lot of info from the phone conversation, but it was enough to figure a bit out.

 

Benny still gets his machete out, _before_ he sits down to wait. He wipes the blood off his hands and mouth, too. Wasn’t about to go using the little straws, but he weren’t a total savage. That was sorta the point of this whole thing, anyway.

 

It doesn't take too long before there’s the muffled splutter of an badly-maintained engine, and headlights stream into the window, before going dark. He grips the machete tightly, glances over at the portable lamp, ready to switch it off if things gets messy. Darkness would give him a heckuva advantage, but no need to get hasty with things.

 

There’s a knock, of all things, at the door, and a reedy voice yelling “Howdy?”

 

“Come on in.” Benny drawls, as the door swings open.

 

The figure on the other side of the door? Well, suffice to say it was hard for Benny not to chuckle. He was a small fellow, short and skinny with an oversized baseball cap and worn jacket. “You’re a hunter?” He finally drawls, grinning a little. “Ain’t you a little on the scrawny side of things?”

 

The fellow-Benny hesitates to say man, he's too scrawny-scowls. “Aww, c’mon. I can be badass when I want to be. I’m just projecting a certain… aura of non-threateningness. At the moment. Trying to be friendly.”

 

“Well, it’s working real well for ya. Gotta say, I ain’t a little bit threatened, right about now. You Garth, then?”

 

“Garth Fitzgerald the IV, yup. And it’s… Benny, yes?”

 

“Benny Lafitte. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

 

“Likewise. So, you really not gonna tell me how you know Dean? Because I’m a little curious, I gotta say. Guys’ got serious trust issues, let me tell you. It’s not even the vampire thing. Just that he let you in at all, if I’m going to be honest.”

 

“Like I said, that’s Dean’s story to tell, not mine. Let’s just say I saved his angel’s life, and he saved mine in payback. Few other things, but that’s the important details, near as I can make out.”

 

“Yeah, okay. That works for me. Ain’t met that angel ‘cept one time when he dropped off a guest, but they seemed pretty close. Are they… Are they together? ‘Cause I never asked. Or maybe they broke up?”

 

That got a real laugh out of Benny, and he relaxes, letting go of the machete. “I never could quite figure that one out, myself.” A hand reaches out to shake, and Benny takes it.

 

“Thanks again for the meal.”

 

Garth releases his grip, and flaps a hand. “Hey, man, don’t worry about it. Just doing my job. Protecting folk and all. You feeling less blood lust and rampage-y?”

 

“Whole lot.”

 

“Then don’t bother thanking me. So… You know what? Dean’ll vouch for you, or at least he did a little while back, and you seem like a decent sorta guy. I’m gonna trust you on this one, okay?”

 

Benny raises an eyebrow cautiously. “trust me on what?”

 

“Okay, so the first thing you probably need to know is… I kinda organize the hunting network for most of the continental United States.”

 

That surprised him a little, but then again didn’t. Seemed sensible they’d get the little smart ones doing that kind of a job. Made a kind of sense. “Alright, good for you. What’s that got to do with me?”

 

“Unfortunately, as you can probably imagine, it’s a big job, and I’ve got a lot of things to worry about. I’m only here helping you out because there was a case over in state I had to deal with, something about haunted statues or whatever. Point is, the Winchesters keep dumping other little things on me. Important stuff, and I’m flattered, but a guy’s gotta have a life, you know? I’ve got a girlfriend who expects me to be around at least some of the time, and…”

 

“I get your drift. So, you’re looking to, what, delegate?” Benny interrupts.

 

Garth grins. “Exactly. Now, I know I’m not the best fighter. And it doesn’t seem too smart for me to be the one looking after the most important person on the planet right now. You, though… You’re immune to demon possession, handy in a fight, Dean trusts you like a brother… Sounds promising, right amigo?”

 

“Who’s the person?”

 

“He’s kinda… A prophet of God.”

 

“I thought God gave up on this place. Near as I could figure out…”

 

“I don’t know. That’s debatable. Point is, I’ve got a prophet, who’s trying to figure out a way to permanently close the Gates of Hell. Meaning, no more demons, ever. Can you handle being in the same room as somebody with a nosebleed?”

 

“A nosebleed? Maybe. Ain’t a lot of blood, as long as I’ve eaten, should be able to manage it. That’s a mighty appealing plan, otherwise, because truth told, I've been feeling a little off-kilter without nothing to do. I still don’t know if you want to be trusting me with something that big. What if I… fall off the wagon, so to speak?” Benny can’t help but point it out.

 

Garth sighs. “Okay, so basically… I know vampires pretty well, and I know that as long as they are getting a fresh supply of blood, and they’ve got something else to focus on, they generally do pretty well, right?”

 

Benny cracks his neck. “That’s fair enough to say, I suppose. Didn’t help last time.”

 

That comments garners a real exasperated look. “Did you kill the person you were trying to protect, last time? Or the person who was threatening them?”

 

Benny thinks for a minute, hard.

 

He’s all alone right now, and vampires never do all that good on their lonesome. They’re nest creature, they’re meant to be around others, have a shared purpose to keep ‘em all in line. He removed that particular chance when he killed his maker. (And Andrea. God, he regretted that).

 

If Garth could track him down from his trail, so could another hunter. And he had no guarantee that the next one would be any nicer. Death would be simpler, but not altogether better. 

 

Protecting someone? Hell, he could do that. He was tough enough for that, and had enough self control that he knew he wasn’t going to 

 

He concedes. “True. Still. If Dean put you in charge of this situation, I don’t wanna be going behind his back on this one.”

 

Garth thinks for a minute, then groans. “Aww, man. That’s adding ten hours to the trip, minimum.”

 

“We could call him on your little hand-phone thingy.”

 

“Nah, he asked me to check in on some hunter kids in Kansas, anyway. Well, we better hit the road, amigo! Unless you want to stay here for the night?”

 

“I can drive through the night. Don’t need sleep, remember?” Benny points out.

 

“And your car?”

 

“I was gonna ditch it, anyhow.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will probably be horribly Kripked and slashed into angsty pieces by tonight’s episode. Don’t much care, that’s why fan fiction is fun, right?

The decision to share the car proves to be an… interesting sort of decision.

 

The drive to Lebanon Kansas takes almost thirty whole hours, accountin’ for pit spots for food, gas, a blood bag or two, and such.  Benny drives most of the way, and Garth sleeps a lot.

 

As it turned out, the little hunter had a truly incredible ability for snoring, which was less than pleasant. The car they were in was old, spluttery, and made a kinda alarming rattling noise when the speed got anything approaching what was suitable for a highway. 

 

It was mostly highway.

 

The car’s radio appeared to be broken, so music was difficult. Benny didn’t really feel like trying to work out the mechanics of the hand-phone shaped little music player thingy that Garth had handed him right before he had passed out.

 

Eventually he tried it, and after much poking at buttons uncovered the music folder. He figured out soon enough it consisted of some maudlin country ballads, children’s songs (for babysitting, apparently), and some sort of strange poetry-type thing to an electronic beat that Garth later explained was “rap”. There was also something called a “K E Dollar Sign H A”. Benny made the mistake of listening, and thought it best not to bother askin’ about that one.

 

Benny also gave up on the music option entirely.

 

When Garth was awake, he was mostly fielding calls to other Hunters about the best way to kill other monsters, which made Benny a mite uncomfortable, listenin’ to. He understood why it was necessary, but it still rankled on him. No calls on vampires, which was some small blessing, he supposed. Awkward, nevertheless.

 

Garth also had a truly nauseatingly sweet two hour conversation with some lady named Rebecca and her nine year old twins, all of whom seemed to know a lot about huntin’ and the like. From what he caught of the conversation, Garth had been dating her for a good bit over a year, and it was a bit of a sore point how much he was away.

 

That conversation, if anything, was harder listenin’ than the ones about hunting. It was clear enough that Garth was happy with her and the kids, even if they weren’t his. Happy enough that it stung. 

 

Garth living on a boat, near the woman he loved, with children that he might as well call his own, and a purpose in what he was doin’?

 

Benny knew it weren’t ever something he’d get, that chance, not even really when he’d been with Andrea. He was glad somebody got that, and if him helpin’ here with the prophet thing helped out with that? Hell, he’d do it even without the removal of demons as a motivator.

 

Sometimes it was hard to remember about that. _Caring._ Doing good for somebody else.

 

Purgatory and all… Giving a shit about anybody but your own skin got you killed for a whole second time, and nobody was all too sure what happened, then. But it’d been serving him alright, anyway. He knows he could of let the angel die in Purgatory any number of times, for one. He also knows he’d never would of got out intact if he had.

 

He looks over at the slim figure slouched in the seat. Garth hangs up the phone, and smiles cheerily at him, giving a thumbs up gesture.

 

Benny shakes his head, and keeps driving.

 


End file.
